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"Good bye!" cried Jack, as if taking leave of his mistresses, "to-morrow, at the same time. "I'll gibbet the rascal. ” The redness in his face betrayed him. I—listen. There was barely room for one, let alone two, in the passage, and Melusine ended up backwards, supporting Jack as best she could as he stumbled along, grasping the rough walls on either side with both hands. Perhaps that was the reason why she enjoyed preparing suppers at the Becks. It doesn’t seem to matter.
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